


Night Terrors

by Starculler



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:05:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starculler/pseuds/Starculler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even three years after the invasion of the Reach was foiled by the Team, Bart still has nightmares about a future that never came to be and the redhead who lost his life because he changed things. Refusing to talk, Bart finds himself getting worse and worse with no relief in sight. </p><p>Jaime's getting worried because his teammate, the guy he's in love with, looks worse every day and doesn't know why. He wants desperately to know how best to help Bart before he self destructs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> This was my present for Tumblr user endlessroads for the YJ exchanges for Christmas this year. It was super fun to write this and I hope it came out okay. I wish I had been able to find a way to extend it, but it feels pretty good like this. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!  
> And also, Merry (late) Christmas to everyone!

_Too loud. Always too loud. Noise. Screaming. Scratching. Crying. Stop it stop stopstopstop. Too cold. No air. Reaching, always reaching and scratching and tearing and pulling. Too much. Too much so just stop, please stop. Begging and pleading and it just needs to STOP. Cold, digging and ripping. Pain, so much pain. Always pain. Eyes. So many eyes and they just look and look look look look - searching, searing, glaring. Hands poking, prodding, hurting, fumbling. Darkness; too dark too dark but light is too bright. Shuffling feet and grumbling and everything needs to_

 

“STOP!” 

The lights clicked on showing a too empty and tidy room: a bed in the corner, a desk with nothing on it, bare walls made of cold steel. The sheets on the bed were a mess; the boy on it gasping and huffing, sweaty and eyes wild and wide. He fisted his hands into the sheets until his knuckles turned white and it hurt, oh god it hurt. 

His neck stung and he was too scared to reach up and rub it, too scared to find what he dreaded would be laying securely around his neck again. He didn’t want it, he didn’t want it there but what if it was? What if it was there and he was in that place and there was pain and-

His breathing quickened to shorter, faster gasps as panic gripped him, squeezing so tightly it made his stomach churn with sickness and bile rise in his throat. Pain seared his back and arms and all over him he felt the stinging gashes cut into his pale flesh, but there was nothing but scars - long faded scars. He knew, he knew, but it didn’t matter because maybe his mind was wrong and he was there and he didn’t want the pain anymore. No more no more no more - 

His breath hitched on a half contained hiccuping sob as something wet trailed down his cheeks. He bit his lips too harshly, digging hard with his teeth until he felt the skin tear. No crying, no crying. He couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry. They wouldn’t see him cry - he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.  
He had to get out, get away. He had to build. Build what? Build it build it build it. He had to get away.  
He stumbled out of bed, dressed in sweatpants and a now-soaked loose t-shirt, and shuffled out the door that whooshed open. His eyes were wild, unfocused still. He just had to get out. He had to build it. He had to get out. He had to -

“Bart?” 

Bart’s head snapped to the side when his name was called. He was caught. He was caught, he was going to die, he wouldn’t finish, he had to finish it, he had to - 

“Bart, what’s wrong?” 

He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t see who it was. The voice was gentle but they were tricky. They were oh so very tricky. 

“Hey man, c’mon tell me what’s wrong.” Gentle concern laced the familiar voice as feet shuffled toward him slowly. 

Bart took a half-step backward, swaying slightly. The voice was nice. Familiar and soothing and he wanted it to never stop. It reminded him of his friend, the one friend he’d had in the place that defined Hell. His breathing started to slow back to normal as the voice spoke soothing words and came forward. 

He could see blue and black and orange in the face and suddenly his breathing hitched and stopped altogether. Memories pounded painfully at his head until he wanted to scream and scream and scream for that monster to get away. His vision shifted and the figure in front of him, stretching out a hand and reaching, changed and morphed into that giant blue-black monster. His eyes widened as the hand became a cannon and laughter - that sickeningly deep laugh that twisted his insides until he just couldn’t breathe anymore and _oh god make it stop make it stop_ \- echoed around him. The gray background blurred together until everything threatened to spin out of control as his mind reeled and his stomach lurched. 

He was going to be sick, he was sure, as the grotesque voice called out to him in a mockery of the concern the familiar voice had held before and a twisted smirk on its lips. It. It wasn’t a him. It was never a him because it was a monster - but oh god he wanted it no where near him!

“Get away from me!” Bart tried to yell, but his voice came out more like a squeak.

The monster laughed at him, stepping forward and mocking him. His scars burned and itched while his neck felt like it was on fire. He could feel its pressure, sinking into the soft flesh and struggled to breathe again. He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t run away! He grabbed his neck and he felt it, right there the circular piece of metal wrapped around and prevented him from speeding away. Oh god, he was back - he was back here and nothing had changed and it wouldn’t ever change and, and -

He gasped as the monster grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. He almost screamed, but his body gave out on him first. His legs buckled under his weight and he sunk to the floor, only being held up slightly by the monster saying his name over and over and over with that terrible smile and those orange lenses that he would never stop seeing. His body burned and burned and burned and it needed to stop! _Stop stop STOP!_

He shut his eyes tightly, he didn’t want to look anymore. He didn’t want to see the monster or this hellish place anymore. He didn’t want to be here! He thought he was free. He thought it was gone but of course not. He’d never be that lucky. He’d always be stuck, stuck, stuck in this horrid place. He was just a toy, entertainment, just meat and he’d never get out, but he wanted to be out so badly!

“Bart, Bart please! Bart, answer me!” 

Jaime? Bart betrayed his instincts and cracked open one eye, then the other. There was no rubble, no gray sky raining down soot, and most importantly no monster. There was only Jaime, clad in his Blue Beetle armor -why did it have to be the same armor- with the face portion of it gone, showing his tan face, messy black hair, and concerned eyes. He looked lazily around as his breathing slowed and hitched with the occasional hiccup and only half-contained sob, and saw only the corridor of a pretty recently renovated Mount Justice. 

Bart let out a shaky breath and tried to orient himself as best he could. He wasn’t in that doomed future. He was here, with the team. He was safe with no collars and no monsters to torture him. He was safe. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, but he repeated to himself that he was safe. He looked up at Jaime, but couldn’t even manage a ghost of a smile. 

“Jaime…”

“I’m right here. Everything’s cool.” Jaime flashed him a half smile, a reassuring one, as he swiped his thumb across Bart’s cheek. 

He’d been crying. Bart huffed, though it came out more like a stuttering sigh, and tried to sit comfortably on the ground. His legs and arms, though, protested and shook so badly he ended up sitting with a thud. He winced, but gathered himself up so he was mostly a tight little ball of nerves.

Jaime crouched, leaning forward a bit, and smoothed Bart’s hair away from his face. He was still sweaty, clothes clinging to his frame and hair plastered to the sides of his face, and he shivered from feeling cold and numb. He wrapped his arms around his knees, half hiding his face and only barely peeking out at Jaime.

“What’re you doing up?” Bart mumbled through his arms. He needed a distraction, any distraction. His heart was still racing a mile a minute, or at least more than usual even for a speedster.

“Heard some noise and thought it might’ve been an intruder,” Jaime pointed at his back to say he meant the Beetle had thought it was an intruder more so than him. “Thought I’d check it out.” 

Jaime looked him over and the concern warped his features. His brow furrowed and his lower lip jutted out just slightly in a very human way. It made Bart want to smile because Jaime was absolutely nothing like the Beetle Nightmare Monster from his dreams or from his life. He started to smile a bit at the expression, but scowled when Jaime reached out his hand. The older teen hesitated slightly, searching Bart’s suspicious gaze first, before following through and holding one of Bart’s hands, stroking it idly. It was...comforting. 

Bart uncoiled himself slightly, feeling his heart slow, but still hammering in his chest, and a slight blush creep up on his cheeks. He moved his own hand so he could lace his fingers with Jaime’s. 

“Mind if I ask what...spooked you?” They stared at each other knowing just how much of an understatement that was. 

Bart shuffled around a bit and looked away from Jaime, opting instead to stare at the steel-tiled floor of the corridor they were currently occupying. He didn’t want to tell Jaime about it. He wanted to bury it away and leave it untouched, pretend it hadn’t happened and carry on. It’s what he was, mostly, good at. But he knew Jaime wouldn’t leave it alone. He’d just pester Bart until he spoke up, or just wait until the next time something like this happened, or maybe something worse. 

Despite so much time having passed, he couldn’t get over it. They’d defeated the Reach and saved the world from doom, and lost Wally -a different source of nightmares for him too- almost 3 years ago. He’d been away from his Hellish life as a Reach slave for about 4. And yet… all of it was still there. All the fear, the pain, the resentment; it was all there under his playful attitude and joking, care-free manner. All of it lurked dangerously close to the surface and he could feel it when he was lost in thought or just plain zoning out during missions or around the team. He was always just a bit too jittery, too eager to run, and always with that urge to escape. But even so he never talked about it. 

Sure, he’d revealed parts of his past to Nightwing and the team, most of it he’d only told to Jaime, but there was so much they didn’t know about. All the torture, the sleepless nights, seeing people drop dead from overwork or exhaustion or injuries or worse, or even just seeing people killed as examples. There was so much that haunted him, but it was all parts of his past that he didn’t want to deal with. Period. And he wouldn’t, either. But it was obviously starting to get to him.

This was the fourth night in almost two months that he hadn’t been able to separate himself from his nightmares and had tried to leave or escape - he was staying at Mount Justice now to make sure he didn’t end up running into the ocean and drowning because he froze up or some other ridiculous way of dying accidentally. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he couldn’t sleep because of the fear of his nightmares when he’d just stay up and count the stars or stare at the ceiling. Or the nights when he was tortured, writhing in pain from the ghosts of scars, relieving the hells of each and every one and getting sick to his stomach from all the pain. 

“Bart?”

He didn’t realize he’d been silent for so long. Jaime was staring at him with even more concern. The guy had even come closer, retracting the rest of the armor, until he could just about wrap himself around Bart - though he was both glad and not that he held himself back. The older teen had started rubbing one of his shoulders gently, soothingly, and gripped his hand, fingers still laced with his, tighter. 

“‘Nother nightmare.” The concern in Jaime’s eyes grew and Bart just curled himself into a tighter ball. He’d only told Jaime about 1 other nightmare, not really going into detail. 

“About?” He could tell Jaime was trying to keep his voice low and calm.

“Everything.” Bart mumbled the word, his voice cracking a bit. 

He saw some of the images flash across his vision, more coherent than they had been in his dreams. It wasn’t just noise and sensations and blurring sights. It was scenes, frozen in time, and he could remember the sounds and smells so clearly that he would have sworn the events had just happened yesterday. He cringed and felt Jaime stroke the pad of his thumb a bit more roughly over his pale hand. He focused on the difference in their skin tones and puffed out another shaky breath.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Not really…” He saw Jaime fight to bite his lip and not press Bart for an answer. 

They sat in silence for a while. Bart started to wonder how close to morning it was and if the rest of the team would catch them like this.He was about to speak up, but Jaime beat him to it. 

“Hey Bart?” Bart couldn’t decipher the look Jaime was giving him, but his voice was soft.

“Yeah?” 

Rather than give him an answer, Jaime moved and leaned in, giving Bart a small peck on the cheek. Bart’s face flushed a brighter pink and he tried to find something to say when Jaime pulled back. Instead, all he could do was stutter as the older teen smirked somewhat shyly, or was it slyly?

“Promise me one thing.” Jaime’s smirk was gone and now he looked as serious as he usually did on missions.

“W-What?” Bart was still trying to recover from how sudden that had been.

“When you trust me enough,” Bart started to protest, “would you let me finish? When you trust me enough, tell me about those nightmares.” 

Bart felt his face drain of all color and he went completely still. Jaime worried he’d said the wrong thing, but didn’t try to take it back. Instead he opted to wait for a response, even if it was just Bart telling him he wouldn’t. 

“Alright,” Bart breathed out the word, barely a whisper. 

Jaime grinned triumphantly.

“Good. ‘Cause you bottling all this up sure as hell isn’t doing you any good.” Jaime smiled warmly at Bart and placed a small kiss on the tip of Bart’s nose which made both of them flush. “I’m not gonna rush you, but just know you can tell me. When you’re ready.”

Bart smiled as his stomach did little flips, the good kind. He felt fuzzy and extra warm inside. Jaime made him feel a bunch of things, and he was glad that safe was one of them. He uncoiled himself so he was less of a ball and more in a slouch and Jaime took the opportunity to grab him by his middle and haul him onto his lap. Bart made a squeaky protest, but didn’t fight it as Jaime wrapped him in a warm hug, rubbing small circles into his back with one hand.  
They stayed like that for a while until, eventually, they ended up fast asleep on the floor. 

 

****

Jaime had been extra worried about Bart. Ever since he’d found him, dazed and pretty much sleepwalking, Bart hadn’t seemed the same. He seemed frayed, like he was at the end of his rope. He was easier to startle, always jumpy. Jaime had to be extra careful around him when he was wearing his Blue Beetle outfit. It was just… extremely worrying. 

He’d tried to get Bart to talk to him at the very least, or go see Black Canary for some more professional help, but he always refused. Jaime just didn’t know what to do anymore. Especially not after last night. 

Jaime and Bart had taken to sleeping in the same room -it made Bart feel better to have someone with him and it gave Jaime the chance to keep him from bolting out of their base while sleepwalking - and all it did was let Jaime know just how badly Bart was suffering. At his mildest, Bart would simply toss and turn for most of the night. Sometimes the speedster would wake up silently, sometimes crying. More than once Bart had woken up screaming, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. It was times like those that Jaime would curl around him and stroke his hair, rub his arms and try his best to settle Bart down. He’d whisper a lot in spanish, softly and mostly just nonsense. It seemed to help, but the nightmares never seemed to stop. 

Bart hadn’t had another walking-nightmare, but Jaime figured it was just a matter of time. Especially since Bart didn’t seem to be getting much sleep at all. When the other wasn’t having nightmares, he’d usually lay there until Jaime fell asleep and would usually be awake by the time he woke up too. 

Jaime sighed and buried himself deeper into the couch, not paying attention to the news station playing on the new television. It was boring anyway and he had bigger things on his mind. 

He didn’t notice when Conner had walked around the couch and plopped down next to him. Jaime looked over tiredly, surprised to find Conner almost glaring at him. 

“What’s that look for?” Jaime’s tone was a bit more defensive than he wanted it to be.

Conner grunted and looked straight ahead at the t.v. without a word. Jaime huffed and was about to get up after a full two minutes of silence, but finally the other decided to speak.

“What’s going on?” 

_Shit_. Jaime’s first impulse was to say something dismissing and snarky, but by the pointed look he was getting he knew Conner wanted none of that nonsense. 

“It’s nothing, really.” Jaime flashed him a half smile but Conner only scowled deeper. 

“Look, if there’s something wrong-”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Jaime really couldn’t believe he’d just snapped at his teammate like that.

“Really?” Conner narrowed his eyes angrily. “‘Cause you and Bart have looked like Hell for the past three weeks and frankly, it’s been worrying the rest of the team.”

“I-”

“And,” Conner interrupted, “the only reason no one’s said anything yet is because everyone’s just trying to tip-toe around some freaking problem we don’t know a thing about.” The last part Conner practically growled out through ground teeth. 

Jaime stayed silent. As much as he did want someone else to know about Bart’s nightmare problem and to get him help, they weren’t his problems to talk about. He knew Bart wanted to keep them to himself - hell, he hadn’t even told Jaime about them either - and he wasn’t about to gain a reputation as a rat now. 

Conner glared harder and grabbed Jaime, he was pretty sure the big guy would’ve punched him too, by the shirt until a hand grabbed Conner’s arm. It wasn’t too threatening, smaller by far on the scale of threats this particular person was capable of, but the gesture was clear enough. 

“Calm down.” Jaime glanced over at Robin, dressed in civies and his typical shades, who’d made his own appearance now. 

He wanted to groan and protest that ambushing him like this really wasn’t too fair - and no, he wasn’t going to neutralize Conner because he was threatening bodily harm - but kept his mouth shut. Conner begrudgingly let go of the front of his shirt as Robin swiftly leaped over the back of the couch, settling down on Jaime’s other side. Great, now he was cornered.

“We, the entire team I mean, are just worried about you and Bart. Neither of you look like you’re getting any sleep, you and Bart have been spending less and less time out here with us, plus despite having your own homes you’re both sleeping here all the time.” Jaime wanted to cringe and run away. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

“I…” How could he start? How could he give them an explanation without revealing anything about what was going on? “I really can’t say.” Jaime tried to look away from them. 

“Why?” Robin sounded genuinely concerned.

“What is someone threatening you?” Conner sounded like he was ready to beat up anyone.

“No!” Jaime looked incredulously at Conner. “No one’s threatening us, and before you jump to conclusions, no one’s threatening mine or Bart’s families either.” He was starting to get annoyed by all the questioning. “Look, I just promised I wouldn’t tell until he was ready, okay?”

“Who? Bart?” Jaime wanted to punch himself in the face.

_The Robin is close. You do not wish him to find out. Shall he be exterminated?_

Jaime almost shouted aloud at Khaji Da’s suggestion. Of course he didn’t want Robin exterminated! 

“What’s so wrong with Bart that he’s sworn you to secrecy?” Robin pressed for information earnestly.

“Ugh, not another secrets thing,” Conner groaned.

“What? No! Just - just back off alright?” Jaime tried to get up but Conner slung his arm around Jaime’s waist and held him in place. 

“Not moving till you spill.” Robin smirked slightly, but then schooled his face back into seriousness. “Now spill.” 

Jaime struggled futilely against Conner’s grip while Kahji Da kept suggesting annihilation, with Robin also pressing him for information, until finally the sleep-deprived teen blew his top. 

“ **Look! I’m not gonna tell you okay, so just stop asking!** ” He half shouted a few curses in spanish as both heroes stared at him in shock. “Lay off and let. Me. Go. I’m not talking about Bart or me or anything so just stop!” 

Conner’s grip loosened and Jaime took the chance to slip out and get to his feet. 

“And also, stay away from Bart with these questions, or else. Got it?” Jaime scowled, feeling a headache starting to pound the inside of his skull. 

“We just want to help.” Robin’s tone was careful while Conner sat there practically slack-jawed. “Bart’s-”

**“You told them!?”**

All three heroes spun around to see Bart in the kitchen’s doorway, wide-eyed and staring at Jaime mainly. He looked so hurt that Jaime just wanted to grab him and hug him and tell him that he hadn’t said a thing, but before he could Bart zipped away. 

“W-wait! Bart!” Jaime ran to the kitchen and towards the hall where all their rooms were. 

Shit. Shit shit shit. Even if he hadn’t told them anything, he still shouldn’t have let Robin and Conner corner him like that! He should have slipped away sooner. Or maybe he should have told them. Maybe he should have confessed everything he knew so Bart could get some help because clearly not talking about it wasn’t doing a damn thing! 

He stopped when he reached Bart’s room and tried to get it to open. He was sort of glad when it didn’t because at least this way he knew Bart was inside and not halfway round the world. He pressed the palm of his hand up against the steel door, letting the cold seep into him and chill his skin. He rapped softly on the door with his other hand, waited, and then did it again.

“Bart?” No answer. “Bart c’mon. Please open the door.” No answer again. “C’mon, answer me at least.” Silence. “I didn’t tell Robin or Conner a thing. You know I wouldn’t do that.” In a smaller voice he asked, “Don’t you?” Jaime waited some more, but there was still no reply.

He let his head hit the door, shivering slightly as the cold spread over his forehead. He stayed like that for about five minutes, just thinking of ways to get Bart to open the door. When nothing good came to him, he just started rambling. At first he spoke in Spanish, just trying to get an answer, but then he switched to English and started telling stories. 

He talk about a lot of the times Khaji Da had threatened to eliminate people, even innocent civilians, for the stupidest reasons. He talked about learning to properly fly when he got the armor and how many times he’d almost fallen out of the sky. He talked about how cool it had been when he’d actually been asked to join the team and how excited he’d been. Finally he talked about Bart. 

How much Bart meant to him. How he felt whenever Bart was nearby, and all the stupid biological facts Kahji Da would point out about him whenever Bart got too close or they brushed fingers accidentally. He mentioned that Khaji Da also liked Bart, in a friendly sentient mechanical beetle sort of way. He talked about how flustered he always got around Bart and how much he just liked holding on to him. Stuff he’d never really told the teen before because it was so embarrassing to say out loud.

He talked and talked until he really was thoughtlessly rambling. At some point or another he’d switched over to spanish, then english, and then settled for switching between the two. When he ran out of things to say, he sighed and settled for sitting in front of the door. 

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and just started to hum an old lullaby, immensely glad that most of the team was out and wouldn’t catch him like this. 

He didn’t expect the door to swish open behind him, throwing him off balance, but grinned when he saw Bart’s face above him. The younger teen’s eyes were red and there were tear tracks on his cheeks, his breathing was uneven and he was still hiccuping a bit like he’d been crying really really hard.

In an instant Jaime was on his feet and hugged Bart as hard as he could, whispering over and over how sorry he was and swearing up and down that he hadn’t said a thing and had really kept his promise. He felt Bart shift in his bear hug grip, hesitantly bringing up his arms to hug Jaime back and burying his face in Jaime’s chest, trembling.

Jaime pried himself off from Bart long enough for them to shuffle into Bart’s room and let the door close behind them. He looked Bart over, seeing what he saw everyday: the tired, weary face of the boy he loved but never told that in so many words; the boy who was suffering and he couldn’t do a damn thing to make it better. 

Jaime carded his hand through Bart’s hair once, twice, and brought his hand down to press against his ruddy cheek. He rubbed at the tear tracks and brushed away the new tears, being as gentle as he could.  
“I’m so sorry, Bart.” He couldn’t help but say it again. He had to. He was sorry for making Bart cry like this. He was sorry for not being able to help him better. He was sorry for not having met Bart sooner and for a whole bunch of other things that were completely out of his control. 

What good was being a hero if he couldn’t even help this one kid who really, really needed it? Who needed him? 

Bart shook his head and then walked over not to his bed, but to a pile of blankets and pillows he’d assembled in a far corner of the room. It made Jaime smile a bit as he followed after because as soon as he and Bart had gotten really close, after the failed Reach Invasion, he’d loved making piles and forts out of pillows and blankets. Just, little things he hadn’t been able to do before. He gently placed his hands on Bart’s waist and pulled him down. Bart let himself be dragged down as Jaime sat on the pile he’d created. 

Jaime pulled Bart onto his lap and hugged him, rocking silently back and forth, shushing the younger and just generally trying to calm him down. When Bart’s breathing levelled out, he changed positions so he was being cradled more than anything and they could see each other’s faces. Jaime smiled at him, pressing soft kisses every so often on Bart’s brow, cheeks, nose, and chin. It was innocent and nice and exactly what Bart needed.  
One of Jaime’s hands rubbed circles into his back as he murmured quietly in spanish. Every so often he heard words he knew or recognized because Jaime had said them before: “te quiero”, “mi rayo”, “calma”, but most of it made no sense to him. It felt like barely any time had passed before Bart was finally calm enough to form proper sentences and not just sit there blubbering or whimpering, when in reality almost two hours had passed.  
“Better?” Jaime smiled softly at him, eyes crinkling with fondness. 

Bart nodded. He bit his lower lip, nervous, and decided to speak. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I blew up and I assumed andIreallyshouldn’thaveand-”  
“Whoah whoah, slow down.” Jaime chuckled. “It wasn’t your fault. You just walked in. I should have been the one who walked away when they asked questions.” He wanted to sound more sure of himself, but his doubts about keeping Bart’s nightmares a secret shined through. 

Jaime exhaled as both of them quieted down. Bart started to fiddle with the strings on Jaime’s hoodie while Jaime settled for just watching Bart. He wished he could stop the way his heart wrenched every time he saw Bart’s huddled form and the grimace he wore constantly in private. He just wanted to get rid of all the bad things and have Bart be happy. It wasn’t fair he was plagued by a future that wouldn’t even exist anymore. But he didn’t know how to change it. 

Instead, he did the best thing he could think of. Without warning, he drew Bart closer to him, shifting until they were both comfortable, and wrapped his arms protectively around Bart. He placed a kiss on those dark auburn locks he loved so much and smiled at Bart’s questioning look. He kissed the tip of Bart’s nose and smiled when he saw pink dusting over his features. Bart smiled shyly back and, when Jaime went to plant small kisses elsewhere on his face, kissed Jaime quickly on the lips.

The kiss didn’t last long, but it left both of them smiling. Jaime leaned back into the pile of pillows and blankets and Bart leaned back into Jaime as the two got comfortable even in the silence.  
It wasn’t long before they were snoring lightly together.

 

****

Bart startled himself awake, gasping for breath and clawing at the air in pure terror. He tried to push away from the nearby body, he needed to get away, and struggled when arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He pushed and shoved and finally resorted to clawing at the person because he just had to get out, he couldn’t stand it anymore and he had to leave. The arms tightened more and the person grunted, but Bart only fought harder as his blood pounded in his ears and his vision hazed so badly he couldn’t even make out his surroundings. 

He could feel it, that horrible collar and it stung and hurt and buzzed because he tried to run but he couldn’t - he just couldn’t. It wouldn’t let him run! It hurt it hurt it hurt and he had to leave, leave and get away and build before it got him before it could hurt him more andnothingmadesense! 

He gasped as a hand stroked his side, familiar but not because all he knew was pain and oh god his scars were burning because they weren’t scars, they were new cuts and they were bleeding and they had to stop and he had to leave and-

“Bart! Bart, Bart stop! Calmate, shhh, calmate mi rayo. Shhh.” 

Slowly, slowly, the haze cleared from Bart’s vision and his mind left behind his nightmares -horrible horrible nightmares where it lived and it was terrible because it wasn’t him and never would be him and there was so much pain- and drifted back to the real world. He could see the room, his room on Mount Justice, and his pillows and Jaime’s face pressed against his shoulder, shaking with effort and maybe fear. He could feel Jaime’s arms wrapped around him and one hand’s thumb pressing into his side and stroking. He felt warm and wet on his side, but the rest of him was cold and damp from sweat like usual.

His eyes widened and he gasped and tried to move away when he saw blood dripping down Jaime’s arm and soaking into both their clothes. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough. Panic rose in his chest, grabbing him and closing his throat up until he found it hard to breathe - and then there was Jaime shushing him and gently kissing his shoulder once, twice, three times and more. 

Bart breathe out shakily and moved to grab Jaime’s arm, shifting so he faced it and the wall rather than his bed and the rest of the room. Jaime let him, watching him carefully for any signs of lingering nightmares as Bart held the bleeding arm carefully. 

His breath was shaking as he watched the droplets fall from the hoodie’s ripped sleeve and, oh god, he didn’t remember doing that at all. He saw both of Jaime’s hands covered in scratches, some bleeding lightly, others not. Even the older teen’s face had a few scratches on his cheeks, chin and neck. 

Bart breathed out a horror-struck apology that Jaime ignored. They looked into each other’s eyes; Bart searching for anger and Jaime for clarity. Jaime was the first to smile.

“You’re back.” One hand smoothed over Bart’s auburn locks and he tried his best not to cringe. 

“You’re hurt.” Bart looked from the arm to those forgiving chocolatey eyes and back again. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“But-”

“Trust me Bart, we’re heroes. I think I’ll be fine.” Jaime chuckled a bit more to comfort Bart than anything. He really didn’t care if the scratches stung or not, he was just worried. “It was another nightmare?” More statement than question.

Bart nodded. There was no use even trying to hide it with such a violent reaction. He watched Jaime’s eyes cloud with concern, his brow furrowed slightly and he bit his lip. Jaime didn’t want to ask him to tell because Bart hadn’t wanted to for so long. It made Bart smile, seeing the lengths Jaime would go to for him. 

The speedster looked down at his hands and quickly laced his fingers with Jaime’s, wiping some of the blood off them though there wasn’t much. He nibbled on his lower lip, considering, and then made a hard decision.

“Can I…” he sucked in a breath and puffed it back out. “Can I tell you about it?”

Bart didn’t look at Jaime. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about it, but if he kept waiting he’d never be ready. It was obvious this was getting worse and all he was doing was dragging Jaime down with him without a clear explanation. Might as well explain. Right? 

“Only if you’re comfortable.” Again, that caring note in Jaime’s voice made him smile just like every other time. 

Bart hesitated. He felt Jaime’s lips press against his temple and draw back. He played with their hands a bit, thinking about how to start. Could he even talk about this? He’d never really tried except for the parts of his past that he’d deemed necessary to tell Jaime and the team when the Reach had been invading. 

“I’m not comfortable.” He decided to start there rather than with his dream. “I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable.” he paused, waiting for some sign that Jaime might be tired of hearing him ramble. When none came, he continued. “But I’ve got to try and, well…” He cleared his throat. “I-I care about you enough and you’ve, amazingly, stuck with me.”

Bart smiled shyly and sneaked a peek at Jaime through his lashes, not daring to tilt his head up fully to see his face. It always shocked him, at least a bit, to see how much of him Jaime could tolerate. Most of the team had pretty much written him off as hyperactive and only occasionally smart, but Jaime seemed to see all of him. He tolerated all of him. Even the parts that everyone else found incredibly annoying. 

Jaime stayed silent, patiently waiting. He rested his chin gently on the top of Bart’s head and let Bart play with his fingers. He let Bart get more comfortable against him and smiled slightly. 

“You can start whenever you want.” Jaime spoke softly, almost in a whisper.

With one more deep breath, Bart began. He didn’t talk about any of his previous nightmares or the ones that ended up with him sleepwalking. He only focused on the one he’d just had. He focused on the environment at first, getting into more and more detail as he went on. His voice shaking and stuttering on his words every so often.

“It was back in the future I came from. The soot was falling from the sky and I could b-barely see anything. It was cold, like winter, and I couldn’t get warm no matter what I did. I couldn’t run either. At first...I don’t know why I couldn’t at first. I just couldn’t get away. But then, then I had the inhibitor collar back around my neck. I tried to run, but I couldn’t - it was so painful.” Bart hesitated and blew out a shuddering breath. “I tried to pry it off my neck, but it wouldn’t budge and then everything started to hurt. 

“I couldn’t move and the ground shifted and changed until I wasn’t just in one place. It was like I was everywhere at once, every-everywhere they’d e-ever-” Bart swallowed hard, his eyes stinging as he recalled the memories. “I saw them, all of them, and then my scars weren’t scars anymore. They were fresh and bleeding and-and…” 

Bart trailed off, feeling a few tears slip down his cheeks. He had to try hard not to let his feelings overwhelm him as memories clawed their way to the forefront of his mind. He started to shake and felt Jaime rock him gently and murmur something quietly. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Bart’s voice quavered. He could feel some of his scars stinging painfully. 

“You want to stop?” The understanding in Jaime’s voice almost made him mad. How could one person be so damn good?

“No, I just - I need a moment.” 

They sat in silence. Jaime made soothing noises and rubbed his back gently as Bart tried to get a hold of himself again. He didn’t want to just start blubbering again. He just wanted to get through this as quickly as possible. He grit his teeth and Jaime pressed a kiss to his cheek. Almost ten minutes passed before Bart could find his voice again.

“I-I’m just going to...m-move on.” Jaime nodded, waiting. Bart sucked in a breath and continued. “I relived a lot of bad memories… but then it changed again. Everything in my dream went black and I was all alone. And then - then there was a light so I followed it. But at the end of it was… _Him_.” He took a shaky breath. “The other Blue Beetle.” He felt Jaime wince at the mention of his evil future self and Bart laced their fingers together for comfort. “He blasted me and I flew back a few feet into the darkness again. 

“All I could hear was his laughter and his voice and he was… He was just mocking me, repeating things you’d say to comfort me.” Jaime tensed and Bart let out a soft whimper. He hated having to say this. “There were… other things,” Bart’s tone made it clear he didn’t want to elaborate, “but then there was also Wally. He was glaring at me, blaming me for dying and-and andhewasrightitwasmyfault I just-”

Tears spilled over and suddenly Bart was crying. It wasn’t loud or harsh but an almost silent, gasping cry that made it hard to breathe, bordering on hysteria. Jaime instantly started trying to console him. He murmured that it was a dream and that Wally wouldn’t have blamed him - that no one blamed him. It took almost an hour before Bart was calm again.

“I-I don’t think I c-can,” Bart started, hiccuping and gasping, but couldn’t finish. 

“Shh, shh. Esta bien. Esta bien. You don’t have to finish.” Jaime pet Bart’s hair and pressed small kisses over his face. “You did really, really well. Shh, don’t cry.” 

Jaime hugged Bart closer, rocking side to side now and humming softly. Bart pressed his face into the crook of Jaime’s neck. He hadn’t gotten far into talking and he’d absolutely broken down. Normally he’d have berated himself, been angry because it was one more thing he’d done wrong. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t find himself angry with anything when Jaime was being so nice and so caring. 

Bart made a soft, humming noise of comfort and snuggled in close. He could feel the older teen’s smile against his head and it made him smile a bit too. He was so tired now as he wrapped his arms around Jaime, but oddly content too. 

“Duerme, mi Rayo.” Jaime crooned at him. “I’m so proud of you. Te amo.” 

He felt a kiss on his temple and Bart murmured consent. He felt fuzzy and warm and all those things Jaime had described while he’d stood outside Bart’s door almost begging to be let in. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted this to rewrite all of his terrible memories. And even though it wouldn’t he was happy. He hoped the rest of his time here would be just like this. Even if the nightmares didn’t stop, he hoped with his whole, fuzzy mind and wildly beating heart that these feelings wouldn’t either.

“Love you,” he mumbled as he pressed himself further against Jaime. 

“Te amo,” Jaime responded, nuzzling Bart gently. 

Jaime stroked Bart’s auburn hair, watching as the other drifted off to sleep. He smiled to himself, glad to see Bart resting mostly peacefully. 

Maybe it was the season, or maybe he was just overly fuzzy with warm feelings, but he felt like things would be better. Maybe even without some miracle. 

“Te amo, mi rayo.” He murmured the words one more time before drifting off himself, Bart securely in his arms and both of them curled up on a soft mound of pillows and blankets.

_For a moment, the world was perfect._


End file.
